


Even Chaos Has A Limit

by queenoftrivia



Category: Youtuber RPF
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Septiplier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5183726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenoftrivia/pseuds/queenoftrivia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack had a bad day. A really bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Chaos Has A Limit

**Author's Note:**

> Old. Proud of it. Here it is.

It was a normal day.

Except, everything seemed to be going wrong. It felt like the entire universe decided to use up its energy to specifically conspire against a single human being on planet Earth.

That human ended up being a certain Sean William McLoughlin.

First of all, when Jack woke up, he was alone for the first time in months. He wasn't used to being alone. He was used to waking up to Mark in his arms or Mark's arms around him. He knew that the American had an appointment early in the morning, and would be at work for most of the day afterwards (as usual), but waking up alone just felt cold and strange. He didn't like it.

Second, his bread came out of the toaster burnt to a crisp. A small thing, sure, but it was a thing nonetheless.

Third, he spilled his morning coffee all over the bed he shared with Mark. He had to wash the sheets and put new ones on the bed. Again, a small thing, but it added to the list.

He recorded himself playing a rage game. Bad idea. He ended up breaking his controller and spilling the apple juice at his side all over the desk.

He, slightly jokingly, asked himself how the day could get any worse. The universe, being the usual dickbag it always is, answered by making his computer randomly crash right in the middle of his recording of another video.

He decided to do some house chores to at least try to distract himself. He broke a glass and a shard cut deep into his foot in the process of doing the dishes.

As he was cleaning up the mess of broken glass and blood, he realized he was bleeding a lot more than he'd previously thought. He also noticed that his hands were shaking as he wrapped the wound with gauze. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he seemed more pale than usual. That was definitely not good.

Jack told himself to calm down. He put ice on the cut to numb the pain and sat down on the sofa. He knew it wouldn't work to calm him down, but... it was worth a try, right?

Right?

He asked Mark when he was coming home. He said probably later than usual and apologized, like he normally did. Jack made some slightly inhuman noise, and was tempted to text back when Mark texted again.

"be back around eight, sorry i'm gone so long. love you"

Eight? EIGHT!? Jack looked at the time. It was 2:44 exactly. That was five hours and sixteen minutes until he could see Mark.

He might go insane.

The rest of the day without Mark didn't go well either. The password to their now-shared Netflix account wouldn't work. Twitter was down for some odd reason, and Tumblr updated, which was always a nightmare. All small things.

He'd never really thought about it, but now that Mark was gone, his mind was completely free to think about whatever the fuck it liked. The thought terrified him.

Mark made Jack feel grounded. Mark reminded him to eat, to sleep, to generally take care of himself. Mark was the string that tied the balloon of Jack's chaos to a post in the ground. Without that string, the balloon was free, which was a good thing, right?

Not when that balloon was terrified of heights. Not when he's so caught up in everything that he literally forgets to do the shit he needs to in order to stay alive.

When Jack lived alone, his sleeping schedule was fucked up beyond belief. Sometimes, he would go without sleep for ages, and after a day or two he would just collapse where he was and sleep for half a day. His diet consisted of cake and shit he managed to pick up from the store. Sure, the meals would be relatively healthy, but still.

Then he moved in with Mark in L. A. and everything changed. Mark helped him actually keep a legitimate sleeping schedule (when they weren't keeping each other awake). His diet didn't really change all that much, but it was still healthier than whatever the hell he had back then.

Jack was chaotic and destructive, and Mark balanced it out, being the anchor of Jack's boat in the most intense hurricane ever heard of.

So, without his anchor, without his string, Jack floated above everything, terrified of falling from such a height but not being able to stop himself from getting up so high. With nothing to hold him down, Jack couldn't help it but crumble.

As Jack drifted through the final few hours before Mark finally made it home, his mind wouldn't rest. He felt like shit. His foot hurt like hell. He couldn't get up to get water, or food, or anything. Nothing good was on. His phone ran out of battery and he couldn't get up to recharge it because of his stupid fucking foot. He glanced at it and grimaced. He could see the blood seeping through the fabric. Ew.

His phone vibrated and Jack breathed an enormous sigh of relief when he found it was Mark. It was almost eight.

"hey babe, turns out i'm staying a bit longer. see you around 9, love you"

Fuck.

Jack suddenly felt a crushing sense of uselessness. He hadn't done anything really useful all day, and the shit he tried to do just failed miserably. This was the first time he had ever missed a video. He couldn't remedy that feeling by doing something because he didn't want to force out any more blood from his foot, which was already bleeding more profusely than he was comfortable with. He felt nauseous and realized he had eaten nothing, and drunk just about nothing too, now that he was thinking about it.

God, he was a trainwreck.

He must have fallen asleep, because he was awoken by the sound of the door opening. Mark walked in with a smile on his face, but when his eyes fell on Jack, his expression fell.

Great. Jack just ruined his boyfriend's day. How could the fucking day get any worse?

Mark asked something about Jack being okay. He looked up at his boyfriend's caring, but worried and sad and slightly afraid expression and he couldn't handle it anymore and his face contorted and suddenly tears were streaming down his face and he had no hope of stopping them.

Through the sound of his crying, Jack heard Mark ask what was wrong, and felt hands cup his face and wipe away his tears. He tried explaining, tried telling him that it was all because Mark hadn't been there, but nothing escaped him besides small sniffs and gasps for air.

The truth was, Jack felt pathetic. All of this happened because he was alone. Yes, it was the first time in months, but he was completely broken. He hated being alone.

No, that wasn't it; he hated being lonely.

Arms began surrounding Jack and he suddenly wanted to shy away from Mark. His arm pushed against what he assumed was the American's chest and he tried going into the fetal position, but his injured foot protested and he flinched.

He wanted so badly to turn into a small turtle so he could just curl up into his shell so all the pathetic sadness he was feeling could just be bottled up inside. Then it wouldn't be able to ruin Mark's super awesome day. Why couldn't Mark see that pushing him away was for his own good?

Mark persisted, and it took all of Jack's energy to not explode in his face. It didn't work.

"Fucking SHUT UP!" Mark flinched, but it was too late. Jack went on, tears streaming down his face, his whole body shaking as he released the Kraken in his thoughts.

"Can't you see this is for your own good? I don't want you to feel bad for me, 'cause all of this is pathetic of me! I'm literally cryin' over spilled milk here! I spilled some fuckin' juice on the desk and some coffee on the bed, big deal! Okay, yeah, I lost a ton of blood from a cut in my fuckin' foot, and I missed a video for the first time in years, but that's nothin', it shouldn't fuckin' matter because you had a fuckin' great day at work, away from me, a pathetic excuse for a human being. I just want you to be happy, Mark," he cried. Finally taking a breath, his voice cracking with emotion, he continued, "The truth is, I'm a whiny arsehole, but... I need you. Without you, a bunch of horrible shit happened. You're the only thing I have here. But I don't want this shitty negativity to get to ya. I don't want to be a fuckin' burden."

Jack couldn't see much through his tears, but what he did see only blurred his vision more.

Mark came closer and Jack felt firm, yet warm and comforting arms surround him in the way they should've been that morning. Too exhausted to do anything but cry, he did so, soaking the front of Mark's shirt with tears, his body shaking against his love's torso. Mark murmured reassuring sweet nothings into the top of his head, placing tender kisses into his brown and silver strands as one hand rubbed slow, calming circles into his back. The contact warmed Jack, and he was finally able to truly calm down for the first time that day.

After a while, Jack had stopped the majority of his crying, only a few last tears making their way out of his eyes. He felt a little tingly, and very, very warm.

Suddenly, Mark stopped massaging Jack and instead pulled him into a tight hug, using his head to completely envelop Jack in a protective embrace.

"I promise I will never leave you, Jack," he shakily whispered before placing a soft kiss on the top of Jack's head. Jack felt a tear fall on his head, turned to look at his love, and found that his warm brown eyes were red with tears.

Before he could process his own actions, he destroyed what little gap there was between them with the most tender kiss they had ever shared. They were so close it almost hurt to pull away. When they did pull apart, all Jack could do was whisper sweet nothings against Mark's lips, and then they were together again, their arms around each other, holding each other so close they wouldn't have been able to be pulled apart.

**Author's Note:**

> *ruins the mood* "I'll never let go, Jack..."


End file.
